Monday, January 12, 2009

Survival, by Gråulf

A few years ago I participated in a problem solving design shop in Los Angeles. The group was discussing how to respond to a major earthquake. One participant pointed out that a major earthquake would collapse all bridges and overpasses in the area, which would make it virtually impossible to bring food and emergency supplies into Los Angeles. The speaker stated that no American city has food for more than four days, and after that people would begin to die from starvation. I licked my chops, and told them that I would not go hungry as long as there were so many plump people around. The group responded with some nervous laughter, and went back to discussing the horror of starvation. There were no survivors in that group.

Survival is as much about attitude as ability, and a survival situation does not necessarily involve getting caught in an earthquake. On one hunting trip I trekked further into the mountains than normal. I had learned the hard way not to hunt further back in the mountains than I am prepared to carry an animal out, but this afternoon was glorious, and I was in new and unfamiliar country, so I slung my Rugar #1, and kept going for the sheer joy of hiking through the fall mountains. Shortly after I turned back towards camp it clouded over, and a snowstorm blew in over the continental divide. That was of no particular concern, and I trampled through the snow with a big grin on my face, and icicles freezing in my beard. Then it was getting dark, and the snow was coming down so fast that visibility was about 10 feet, and I realized that to all intents and purposes I was lost. The snow was 2 feet deep by then, so what I could see of the landscape looked vastly different than on the way into the mountains, and even if I could keep a fairly accurate compass heading I was unlikely to find my camp unless I tripped on it. Since I carry a tomahawk when I hunt for elk it only took about half an hour to build a lean-to, and cover the floor with a thick layer of evergreen branches. Gathering enough firewood, and building a reflector, took another half hour. That was not the most comfortable night I ever spent, but it sure was not my least comfortable night either.

That was not much of a survival story, and that is the point I want to make. I was never in any danger because I knew enough not to stumble around in a snowstorm until I got wet and cold and possibly died from hypothermia, and I carried the means to make a shelter and a fire in my daypack.

The community of Ward, up Left-Hand Canyon from Boulder, used to be a survivalist community, and probably still is. The inhabitants had a pact to stock at least a year’s supply of food for each person in the community, and to help each other survive if the situation arose. One of my friends had a sister who lived in Ward, and she invited her brother to bring up a stockpile of food so he could join the community if our society collapsed. My friend asked his sister if they would take him in without a stockpile of food, and she told him that if he came without the food they would have to shoot him.

If society collapsed, for whatever reason, the cities would turn to chaos overnight, and armed gangs will loot, kill, and steal whatever they can find until there is nothing left in the cities to eat. Then they will migrate into the countryside to rob those who have the means to survive. At that point survival will depend on vigilance and firepower. I doubt many small survivalist group can expect to exist for long, even out here in the West where there is lots of space to hide. That is a terrible condemnation of the human race, but it is one based on observing what happens in urban areas when law enforcement breaks down, even for a short period of time. The roving bands of looters will probably survive for a year or so, until they are killed off, or they die because there is nothing left to scavenge. Then those with the will and the skills to survive can get on with creating a new society.

Gråulf.

No comments: